Femslash February - For the Love of Lesbians
by Lyra Kamiya
Summary: My collection of fills for the Femslash February prompt challenge! A new pairing every day all month long, no excuses. Pairing will be updated with each chapter; rating reflects overall max, individual ones vary from G to light R. Find the prompt list at the tinyurl: femfebmp -Day 8: Scientificshipping "Under the Influence"
1. First - Agatha x Bertha

So I'm running this thing as part of the tumblr-wide Femslash February project; it's a 28 prompt challenge, one for every day of the month. Some people are writing different pairings for each prompt, some are writing 28 prompts for one pairing. I'm doing the former.

I'll be updating the pairing and summary each day with each new pairing. I'll probably run out as the month goes on, so for once, I'll be accepting suggestions in the reviews.

Enjoy the ride 3

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**Day 1 - Prompt: First - Pairing: Agatha/Bertha**

It had been a subject of debate, argument, and even outright fighting for years. Bertha – always the sentimental one, but that's what Agatha had liked about her so many years ago, wasn't it – had insisted on bringing it back up every few years, but it always remained a sore spot in the old ghost trainer's mind.

At some point, maybe a decade earlier – no one really knew, because somewhere around 40 the years started to blend together and pass the way seasons do in youth and weeks do in childhood – Bertha had made a simply unexcusable gesture. It was meant to be sweet, was meant to be hopeful, above all else it was meant to be loving.

Jaded as she was, from time and just by nature, Agatha had seen the offered jewelery as nothing but a reminder of the hardest truth they faced.

Filled with utter certainty that Bertha had lost any ability to be sensetive to her feelings, she'd left their shared home in Sinnoh and taken a position with the Kanto elite four. She had friends in Kanto, her childhood home, but to her frustration they took her only for an embittered old crone. As such, she quickly gained a reputation as the old woman who preferred the company of the dead to the living.

After what Bertha had dared to do, she almost felt it was the truth.

Time changes people and laws alike, however, and despite her certainty that humans lacked any empathy to speak of, she found herself tensely watching the election results one night, breath held, her hand gripping the blanket strew across her waist. It had been knitted by Bertha, and it was the closest substitute she allowed herself given the circumstances.

To her surprise, the one that initiated the tearful phone call that night, far past what she now considered an acceptable time to be asleep, was herself, not Bertha. Two years of silence were bridged in that moment, and, despite her own feelings that she didn't deserve it, Agatha found herself forgiven in one instant, before she even had a chance to ask.

She was on a plane within the month, leaving behind both the position she'd fought long and hard for and most of the meager life reassembled for herself in Kanto. There were far more important things waiting for her in Sinnoh, and after all, they'd been the region to have the change in heart, while her own hadn't even considered it.

Bertha was the one to do the math – naturally, since Agatha still refused to be the sentimental one, though there were still tears down her face that morning, much to her surprise. They'd been ushered, almost pushed, to the front of the line by those around them. While it was likely at least part out of their relative fame, there'd been at least one comment of "we can't have you dying before you get the chance", and Bertha had been secretly grateful for the distraction because the longer they waited, the more she was afraid she'd join the older woman in her tears.

Two signatures and one kiss – their first since that fateful day two years before – later, the ground trainer found herself unable to hold back the tears after all.

For the first time in 53 years of being together, she could finally introduce Agatha as her wife.


	2. Watching - Georgia x Burgundy

Thanks for the good feedback on the first chapter!

Second chapter is based on a larger idea I've got floating around. I might expand it separately later.

I've also made a tinyurl link for the complete promptlist - femfebmp (just put that after tinyurl). Everyone's free to use the prompt list, whether you plan on doing the whole month or not.

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**Day 2 - Watching - Sourgrapesshipping**

"And what exactly are you watching?"

Georgia fumbled with the remote, nearly dropping it in her embarrassment, and succeeding only in hitting mute instead of changing the channel like she meant to. She'd been so focused on the screen that she hadn't heard the bathroom door open, let alone noticed Burgundy standing at the side of the bed, staring at the screen for the better half of a minute before finally speaking up.

Mute, unfortunately, didn't hide the essentially naked woman on the screen or the camera angles working overtime to make it look as though she was fingering herself.

"Fuck, don't sneak up on me!" she snapped, shaking her head in disbelief and unmuting the TV in an attempt at nonchalance. "Check it out. This hotel has that stupid channel with the fake sex movies. You missed the guy blatantly humping somewhere around her knees about five minutes back."

The two had been traveling together for a month or so, originally out of convenience – they were following the same group, and splitting the cost of things was always preferable to full price – but more recently out of a genuine sense of companionship. Georgia had started challenging gyms during that time, and, winnings in hand, had decided to spring for a hotel instead of a pokemon center room that night, in favor of a real bathtub over the center's communal showers.

"How much extra did you waste on this?" Burgundy sighed, tightening the towel around her bust and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Because if you paid for this but not two beds I swear-"

"Nah it was free. That's the funniest part."

As big as she was talking, Georgia was still blushing severely at having been caught watching such a channel, her arms crossed firmly across her chest, causing one strap of her nightgown to slide down her shoulder.

"Yeah, funny," Burgundy echoed, even as the woman on the TV wound up under another woman, the two making out fiercely. Her own blush had spread into her ears, but she felt a strange, almost morbid fascination at the softcore pornography – her first encounter with any of it that actually moved – and found herself unable to pull her eyes away.

Except long enough to cast another glance at Georgia, who shifted restlessly, licking her lips as she did her best to look uninterested or at best amused at the programming.

"I mean, look at that," she continued, starting to ramble noticeably, "now they're just rubbing their breasts together... that just seems pointless, don't you think?"

Burgundy didn't miss the nervous look the older girl chanced at her, nor the uncomfortable way she fidgeted as she looked back at the screen. "I guess I should probably change it though. It's getting really dumb."

"L-leave it on!" she objected, with force that surprised even herself. "I-I mean," she coughed, tightening her own arms before eying Georgia's exposed shoulder with inwardly pursed lips. "My job is to evaluate the chemistry between people... and pokemon... so maybe this will be some good research?"

Georgia needed no further convincing, setting the remote down and taking hold of the hem of her nightgown instead, wringing it in her lap.

Before long, both were leaning forward, staring intently at the TV, their eyes still occasionally drawn to one another when their fidgeting got too exaggerated to ignore. There was no question left in either of their minds that both of them were enjoying the "stupid" movie a little too much... but who would crack and admit it first, before they were to spend yet another night sleeping just inches apart, was still up in the air.


	3. Holding Hands - Kris x Lyra

**Day 3 - Holding Hands - NewReplacementShipping**

The Westermarck Effect states that children raised together before the age of six will imprint on each other as siblings, and thus be uninterested in each other romantically. A number of statistics back this up, and despite few knowing the phenomenon by name, most people instinctively know it to be true. Of course, as with any theory or statistic, there are exceptions.

By the time they left on their pokemon journeys, Ethan and Lyra's mothers transitioned from joking about how the two, who were always hand in hand as preschoolers, were clearly getting married some day, to wishing they'd stop arguing for five minutes. There was no question in any of their minds that the kids considered each other siblings. In their parents' minds, this extended to Ethan's older sister, Kris, as well. Long after Ethan became independent from the others, Lyra was still idolizing the older girl in everything from hairstyle to life goals, and they had become the inseparable pair. When they turned 12, it was Lyra, not her own brother, that Kris had walked to the door of the Elm lab, hand in hand, and given a hug for luck. (Ethan had received only a raspberry from either girl.)

The years found the two girls reunited, wandering around a city in Kanto where they'd happened across each other. Instinctively, Lyra reached for the hand of the girl she'd so admired – then stopped herself halfway when she considered that they were now in their late teens, and perhaps such a childish gesture would be unwelcome.

To her surprise, Kris bridged the last few inches, grasping her hand and squeezing tightly, casting her a warm smile that made a blush appear on her own cheeks.

"I'm really proud of you, y'know?" she told Lyra, whose blush only deepened. "I really was scared you couldn't handle it and you'd be back home before you got your second badge. But here you are." She gave her hand another squeeze in return, then stopped in her tracks. "We should celebrate somehow. How's dinner and a movie sound?"

"D-dinner and a movie?" Lyra asked, sounding surprised.

Kris laughed. "I know, it's not much, but it's short notice..."

The younger girl shook her head, glancing at their joined hands, then back up at her friend's sister's – no, _her friend's_, Ethan had nothing to do with their relationship any longer – face. Her own voice, younger and smaller, rang out in the back of her head; _"I hope I'm as pretty as you some day."_ She wasn't sure of her own face, but for the first time as she looked at Kris's expectant smile, she was realizing that the older girl's beauty wasn't just admirable to her... Somehow, it was making her heart jitter in her chest, and she had to take a breath to steady herself before answering.

"A-actually I was just thinking that sounded more like a date than a celebration," she stuttered sheepishly, casting her eyes down to where she scuffed her toe on the sidewalk.

"Well," Kris said, reaching for Lyra's other hand, "a date can be a celebration too, can't it?"

Lyra would probably never know about the Westermarck Effect, but if she ever heard of it, she'd find herself glad that she and Kris had been an exception.


	4. Date Night - Zoey x Candice

**A/N:** Hey everyone! Just wanted to say thanks for helping this month get off to a great start. I've already seen, across various fandoms, a good 30 other fills to the prompts so far. I hope even more of you will join me on this month-long shipfest :D

Also, while I have about six other requests for specific pairings, that's still over half the month left to fill in. If you have any pairings you'd like to see me try, let me know :D

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**Day 4 - "Date Night" - Snowpointshipping**

The night after the Grand Festival had been a series of animated phone calls as Zoey called literally anyone she could think of – and a few she hadn't thought of, but had been asked to call by her mother – to talk to them about her win. With no phone of her own, she had to rely on the pokemon center's, so everything was outgoing. It was just as well, as she doubted she'd have been able to tolerate the endless string of voice mails and missed calls that everyone trying to call her at once would have provided.

None of the calls had been more filled with smiles than the one she made to Candice. Of course, none had been as quick or as quiet, either. Candice was the one person who had truly believed in her the whole time, after all; the tone of genuine surprise that Zoey had won the title at such a young age was absent from only her voice.

"I knew you could do it," she said simply, reaching out to touch her girlfriend's image on the gym's video phone.

"It wasn't easy," she answered, which earned a hearty laugh.

"Nothing's ever easy with you. Stop being so modest, it doesn't suit you. Hurry home; we'll have a nice big party to celebrate your victory."

She'd agreed to the idea and gone to invite her friends from the Grand Festival; to her surprise, but inwardly, her relief as well, all of them had turned her down. She'd called home to tell Candice the news, and she'd assured her that she'd found enough people back home for a decent party none-the-less.

She arrived back to her senpai's apartment that Wednesday night to find it completely dark inside. She laughed, calling out that it wasn't much of a surprise party if she knew about it in advance.

One lone light came on in the dining room, a small flame following quickly as Candice lit a pair of candles on the table; together, the dim illumination revealed a full course meal laid out on the table, which was set only for two.

"You're right on time," the gym leader smiled, pulling out one of the chairs. "If you want to go get changed first though, I won't stop you."

"What happened to the party?" Zoey answered, a little taken aback both by what appeared to be home-cooked food – something Candice excelled in but seldom spent time on – and at the fact that no one else appeared to be there but their Glameow. "They coming later?"

"I decided this was the better way to congratulate you. The others will have plenty of time to fawn over you come the weekend."

It had been a while since the two had had a proper date, let alone one as fancy as what Candice had set up. Zoey cast her a grin, dropping her bags by the door and taking the offered chair with a quick kiss on the ice trainer's cheek. "Sounds like a plan to me."


	5. Storm - Erika x Sabrina

**A/N:** Real life stuff unfortunately means that I've gotten a little bit behind/scrambled. Already. Not even a week into the month.

This is technically day 6, but I'm posting things a little out of order because of what order I got things done in.

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**Day 5: Storm - FemmeGymShipping**

Erika stirred slowly, her toes stretching within her sandals, her shoulders shifting in search of a more comfortable position. She'd fallen asleep on the porch again, leaning against the wall, her feet hanging off the edge and hands folded quietly on her lap. An empty tea cup sat nearby, just out of reach. In her half-awake state, she could just hear the sound of rain falling outside, the gentle patter of rain on the roof lulling her back to sleep.

She shot upright several seconds later, eyes wide, heart racing. "The garden!" she sputtered, pushing herself upright and hurrying across the stone of the courtyard. If it was raining, the new seeds she'd planted that morning had a chance of washing up, and she needed to hurry and put a tarp over them before there was a chance for that to happen.

She stopped dead in her tracks, the last step of her wooden sandals feeling oddly loud compared to the rain. Slowly the gym leader tilted her head back, holding her hand out in search of water that never came. She could hear the droplets all around, but somehow they seemed distant, as though they were hitting a roof, despite her being outside. Indeed, the ground showed only a few faint dark circles, as though the rain had stopped as quickly as it had started.

Bewildered, she squinted at the sky, slowly realizing it carried a rose tint. The fog of her nap clearing slowly, she glanced back at the porch; sure enough, there was a second cup just a few feet from hers, but its drinker was nowhere to be found.

With a fond sigh and a soft shake of her head, Erika turned back, cutting through the long hall of her traditional-styled house to the back door.

Standing out back, eyes cast toward the sky, stood Sabrina, her faithful Kadabra at her side. Both had a look of lazy concentration on their faces, the way anyone else might have appeared while reading a mildly interesting book. A slight, deep pink glow shone in their eyes, their psychic power fueling the barrier overhead. The pink dome spread out over the house and the land surrounding it, forming an umbrella of mental energy that the raindrops ran down in little rivulets.

The vegetable garden, with its neat rows of freshly planted seeds, was undisturbed; if anything, it was drier than the courtyard had been.

"We have tarps for that, you know," Erika teased, stepping up next to the elder woman.

The glow faltered in her eyes for a split second as she cast a mildly annoyed glance at her girlfriend, before resuming her concentration. "I didn't know where they were."

"You could have asked."

"You were asleep."

"You know what I mean. Someone being asleep has never stopped you from finding out what they know before."

Sabrina sighed, crossing her arms. "You know I hate using my powers on you."

"And yet you'll stand out here for an hour, projecting a barrier to keep not just my carrots, but my whole house dry?"

"It was only about ten minutes."

Erika couldn't help but giggle, covering her mouth with her sleeve politely. She was sure Sabrina was right; she was honestly sure she could tell her how long it had been to the millisecond, and possibly tell her exactly how many raindrops the shield had deflected in that time. She was also sure that she would have stood out there all day and night, had the grass trainer not awoken so soon.

"Thank you," she smiled, rising up to place a kiss on Sabrina's cheek. Her eyes flickered again, her cheeks tinting to match them by the time she steadied her powers again.

"Hurry and get the tarps, would you?" she muttered. "This is getting boring."

Erika's cackle as she retreated into the house was far less polite.


	6. Bad Day - Hilda x Bianca

**A/N:** Okay, technically day 5. Like I said, few things got out of order here due to time and inspiration constraints. Hoping to catch back up tonight and tomorrow.

This one gets a warning for implied child abuse. I don't know when my Gen 5 headcanons started getting so dark, but yeah. Warning.

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Bianca was prone to crying at little or no provocation.

Just the same, Hilda had always been there to dry her tears. Very seldom did she even question what had sent the blonde, her best friend for as long as she could remember, into hysterics. She would always just hug her, stroke her hair, and tell her things were going to be okay. No problem – not skinned knees, not a Mincinno stealing her first pokeball, not Cheren rejecting her valentine gift in sixth grade – had ever been too much for Hilda to solve with a little patience and affection.

In more recent years, she'd made an effort to help Bianca cope on her own. They weren't children anymore, and with their pokemon journeys looming on the horizon, it'd become obvious that Hilda wouldn't always be around to soothe her friend. She still rushed to her aid at the first sign of tears, however – just that she met her with a soft hold of her hand and kind words of encouragement, urging her to calm down, rather than the smothering embrace of years past.

Hilda knew that Bianca's father had forbidden her to leave, the day Juniper delivered their pokemon. Cheren likely knew it too, but it was like him to stay out of other people's problems, both out of self-absorbtion and a sense that everyone else should have the same sort of self-reliance he did.

"Your dad changed his mind?" the brunette had whispered eagerly, out of their other friend's ear shot, as they clutched their new pokeballs with all the protectiveness and affection a mother would their newborn infant.

"S-sort of," Bianca had answered, not meeting her eyes. She gave a quiet shiver, one hand slipping up her arm to hide the darkening finger marks

For as much as Hilda had wanted to raise hell over the situation, to be angry at her friend for lying and outraged at her father for providing the situation that had lead to her horrible decision, she instead felt an inexplicable sort of pride rise in her. The nerve it would take to run away from home, to leave on a pokemon journey despite her father's explicit orders, was extraordinary and certainly beyond what the tomboy thought Bianca capable of. Her only fear, as she reached over and gave her arm what she hoped was a soft, comforting squeeze, was that the possibility Bianca wouldn't ask her for help if she needed it. She'd been subtly pushing her to stand on her own, and the tiny, forced smile flashed her way made her afraid she'd succeeded at exactly the wrong time.

By the time they arrived in Nimbasa two months later, Bianca's luck had run out. The news had run a report when her Munna had been captured in Castelia; as it was, she'd barely been staying one step ahead of her father, but he'd been able to cut her off at the pass with no effort. That Hilda was with her when he found her seemed like her last thread of luck; her hand was out and ready for her before she even reached for it, the color drained from her face at the sight of him.

Maybe some of Hilda's luck rubbed off on her in that instant, because Elesa's appearance felt like nothing short of a miracle, and her way with words seemed to calm Bianca's controlling father before he had a chance to bring her to tears.

Those came later, the two snuggled together in a ferris wheel car as Bianca sobbed into her friend's arms.

For once, Hilda didn't try to shush her, didn't tell her things would be okay. For the first time, she felt truly scared things wouldn't be alright, at least not any time soon, but she knew better than to say so. Instead she just quietly brushed her fingers through the blonde's hair, her lips pressed silently to her forehead as she did her best to hold her own tears back.


	7. Under the Influence - Juniper x Fennel

**A/N:** Every once in a while, I write something randomly for a prompt, and I realize as I write it that it's a missing piece to one of my canons. This is one of those cases; this is from my official main headcanon now. That's probably why it got so long compared to everything else.

Oh, and yeah, I am still doing these late and out of order. It's me. I'm bad at timeliness and orderliness. The fact I've actually done 9 so far (I have two others, also out of order, sent off to my editor) in three weeks' time is honestly miraculous progress for me. ~_~; sorry.

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**Day 8: Under the Influence - Scientificshipping**

Science was not a profession without its hazards.

As a graduate student, Fennel should have been more than familiar with most of those hazards, especially those surrounding her specific field of study. Munna's dream mist was already well known both for its potency in battle and for its common usage as a street narcotic, so while her research into its potential use as an energy source wasn't without its basis, the grant money had been difficult to obtain.

Maybe it had been a weak seal, or just degraded rubber, or maybe the Munna she was using for the project had gotten carried away, but somehow the afternoon's experiment had gotten away from her. She'd been too focused on her work to notice the mist filling the room until it'd already started effecting her, and by that time it had already start to lull her into its characteristic tiredness and sense of security.

Aurea had found her not long after that, giggling sleepily to herself at the desk, long after the Munna had realized its mistake and tried to coax her out of the room for her own sake.

Fennel had scarcely recognized her friend – or rather, had thought her to be a dream – but had gone with her willingly, letting her half-carry her back to her dorm, where she'd deposited her on the couch. The younger woman's giggled thanks were of no comfort to Aurea. The memory of her dorm-mates' stupidity while under the influence surfaced in her mind, prompting her to decide she should stick around until she either snapped out of it or fell asleep properly.

She made tea, which Fennel forgot was there at least three times. Each time she stood up and announced she should make some, Aurea took her hand and sat her back down, motioning to the cup in front of her. By the time the cup was drained she'd heard a dozen versions of, "Wow, I don't even remember starting the kettle," which lost its charm around the fourth iteration. Still, there was something endearing about her long-time friend's sleepy antics, and with the number of times Fennel had helped her home after she'd had one too many in undergrad, it was the least she could do.

"You're so nice," Fennel sighed, flopping suddenly against the brunette and snuggling her shoulder.

"Just trying to keep you safe," she answered, wondering how much she could even understand in her state.

"Nooo you really are," she insisted, wrapping her arms around Aurea's elbow and leaning into her. "You're always so nice to me. And you're so smart. I know back in undergrad everyone juse said you only did well 'cause you're the [department head]'s daughter, but, you work real hard, and I'm glad they're nice to you now."

Aurea smiled, reaching over with her free hand to give the younger student's arm a gentle pat. She wasn't sure how much had really been said behind her back in their younger years, but she'd heard at least some of it, and she knew Fennel had been one of the few to worry about how many hours she spent working late. "Thank you."

"Plus you're pretty," she continued, rambling her way right through the thanks. "Really pretty. Actually you're hot. But I probably shouldn't tell you that." Fennel's words were the same sort of train-of-thought ramble that she'd launched into several times over the evening. The first had been about the hallway to her dorm room, then two about tea, followed by a near-perfect recitation of her thesis from the year before, before her latest about tea leaves and the fortune teller she'd seen for her 16th birthday. In all those, however, Aurea had been just the listener, not the subject, and so she wondered what path her friend's subconscious was taking this time. Momentary concern that she was going to fall into a self-deprecating rant about her own appearance crossed her mind – Aurea could no longer count the number of times she'd had to talk her out of chopping off her long hair following remarks from classmates about how it didn't seem professional. Her word choice didn't seem right for that, however...

To her surprise, Fennel threw her arms around her neck, snuggling into her cheek. Her own arms were left stiff to her sides, unsure of how to react to her intoxicated friend's sudden clinginess; Fennel had always been the more touchy-feely of the two, but her celebratory hugs seldom lasted more than a couple seconds.

"I just wanna kiss you!" Fennel announced, attempting to do so without further warning. Aurea squeaked in surprise, pulling away, but her friend's grip around her shoulders was too strong for her to get far. "C'mon. Just one kiss. You didn't care in undergrad!"

Aurea hadn't cared back then, no, but that had been silly, drunken nonsense on the weekends, at clubs that had long since closed down, and had been about trying to catch the eye of the cute DJ, not some sudden advance from a friend who'd had more than a few lungfulls of dream mist.

"I think you need to lay down," she told her, gently trying to push her off. "It's past your bed time."

Fennel whined and complained, trying several more times to kiss Aurea, each time a little less successful as the time and her intoxication were making her sluggish. Some arguing later, Aurea had finally talked her into standing up, and helped her off to the bedroom, begrudgingly agreeing to tucking her in when she was begged.

"Stay here?" came a soft voice, suddenly much more demure than her last twenty minutes of demands and suggestions. Aurea froze at the words and the accompanying fingers wrapped around her wrist, already halfway through standing back up from her friend's bedside. "It's late. I don't want you to go. I don't like not having you here."

The older woman felt a slight blush creep across her face, a lump rising in her chest at how genuinely heartbroken her friend looked, Fennel's lip quivering as though she was sure if she left in that moment, she'd never be back.

"..Fine," she sighed softly, sitting back down and carefully laying beside her friend. They'd crashed on the same bed, cramped together onto single twin-sized dorm bed on a hundred different Friday nights, so there was no reason she couldn't now. "But you need to go to sleep."

"Okay," Fennel had whispered, her hands still tight around Aurea's.

Then, with a soft smile, she did.

The next morning found her gathered into Aurea's arms, her own latched tight around her pillow, the sunlight far too bright for her groggy eyes. As she tried to shake the notion that she'd had a strange dream the night before, she suddenly realized that her friend really was beside her, and she rolled away with a squeak.

Aurea found her a few minutes later, her attention focused on the inside of the pantry, nervously fidgeting with the things inside. "You're up early," the brunette called from the doorway, causing her to jump.

"Yeah I-" she stammered, pulling at a messy lock of her unbrushed hair. "I woke up with the weirdest headache. I guess it is kind of early."

"I've got something for that in my purse."

"I also had a really odd dream..."

"Dream mist will do that to you."

"I- Oh, is that what happened?" Fennel blinked in genuine confusion, the pieces falling together easily. She'd dealt with the effects on a smaller scale before, given how long she'd had her own Munna, but nothing quite like this.

"Yeah, there was a bad leak in your lab, I think. Could smell it clear down the hall," she explained, finding the small bottle of pills from her purse and bringing them to her friend.

Fennel stood silent for a couple minutes, neither acknowledging the container nor making a move to get something to take them with.

"You were pretty far gone... you still out of it?" Aurea asked, waving her hand in front of the younger woman's face.

She gave another startled yelp. "N-no! Just... Realized I don't have my glasses on..."

"They're on the nightstand."

"Thanks," she answered, still not moving. "Um... So I guess that means the dream I had... Did I say some stupid things last night?"

"I wasn't going to say anything if you weren't. Arceus knows I've said worse."

"But that means I _did_ tell you..."

Aurea opened her mouth to dispel her worries again, but stopped herself, noticing a hint of waver in Fennel's voice. She nodded quietly instead, her feet suddenly rooted to the floor.

Fennel cleared her throat, glancing sideways at her friend with eyes that looked a little too wide, only fueling Aurea's anxiousness. "Wasn't really how I planned it, but, I guess that's one way to get that out in the open?"

Aurea tried very hard to say something more helpful than, "Oh."

She suddenly had a lot of thinking to do.


End file.
